


Your Enormous Moon Would Fit Right Inside My Room

by YogurtTime



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Alien Biology, Anal Sex, Body Worship, M/M, Moon royalty, Moonlight, Mpreg, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-25
Updated: 2011-03-25
Packaged: 2019-02-15 02:10:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13021020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YogurtTime/pseuds/YogurtTime
Summary: His skin is like the hot plasma just under the surface of a television screen, but his touch is an entirely different thing. Maru can’t stop thinking about electricity when he looks at him. It’s a scientific attraction now featuring both incredible and bad consequences.





	Your Enormous Moon Would Fit Right Inside My Room

**Author's Note:**

> Um...idk 2011 was a weird ass year for me.

 

 _ **Part 1: Infect Me With Your Love; Fill Me With Your Poison**_.

Nakamaru thinks Taguchi is special.

But only in the way that _progressive evolution_ can be special.

It’s a Tuesday after choreography rehearsal, glowing with sweat, charged with energies and the strenuous...shirtless. Junno slides near him on the wood floor of the dance room, mirrors all around reflecting stomach-skin smooth as rubber, only creamier. Nakamaru begins to think of the consistency of margarine. Three parts oil and acid, two parts spreadable.

“Look! Look!” Junno keeps saying until Maru glances over and Junno flicks his pink tongue out. Sitting on the tip of it is a bubble. He folds his tongue so it looks like a muscle tortilla, hugging the glimmering sides of the tiny bubble. Junno exhales softly; a little “heh” and the bubble drops off his tongue and does these fluttering _loops_ until it touches the floor, a miniature splash of saliva. Nakamaru watches, eyes wide.

A massive, luminous ball of plasma can burn heat streaks on Maru’s back from light years away; _that’s_ kind of special.

“That’s disgusting,” Maru says and he waits to see if Junno can do it again.

Maru keeps a projection of the night sky on his bedroom ceiling. Reds, blues, pinks; evening and burning nebulas. He thinks the universe is vast and the burning bright things he can name as they converge in patterns are mere specks. This is because he can easily fit them in his bedroom. He wonders how many doorways in his house Junno would have to duck to pass through.

He thinks if people were categorised into indisposable materials, Junno would be polyethylene. Maru stretches and flops over restlessly and looks at the threads of his pillow. Polyethylene, latex maybe …and a flexibly soft cashmere textile.

Maru lies awake nearly all night trying to make bubbles with his tongue.

He wonders about the flat part on the bridge of Junno’s nose and it brings to mind the translucence and hardness of salt crystal. Whenever he looks at salt crystal lamps and knows if he runs his tongue over it, it’ll plainly taste salty. It’s just-- he _knows_ that it will already, but the entire point of the scientific method is to experiment.

On Wednesday, he touches Junno. At first it’s just a finger-glance against Junno’s forearm and it’s warm the way a light bulb can be warm. And he thinks about the skin on Junno’s joints, marble or something else sedimentary wrapped over slim, strong knees, ankle bones and shoulders.

Then it starts getting weird.

He’s touching and Junno’s arm is long so Maru’s finger running up the inside of his wrist just…well, it takes awhile and Junno smiles, steps forward, breaking an electric space between them and Maru thinks of gravitational magnetism and then it’s a problem. When he comes too close, Maru’s insides start to vibrate because he tries to lean away. And that’s definitely _paramagnetism_. He isn’t _supposed_ to try to move away; it would go against nature.

It doesn’t _seem_ natural. The way Junno’s lips look like they were moulded/carved carefully, even lines and deep pink elastic skin over a row of teeth so white they’d probably go blue under black light. _Sunday_ , Junno in jeans, muscular thighs cantering him in the most _appropriate_ directions as the balls of his feet make him pivot nearby. Maru gives him a quick shoulder massage afterward—nothing weird-- something platonic and safe, like bro-fisting only with his palms spread over a translucent, TV plasma-warm back flexing with rolling tendons and hard lines that practically sing.

The tips of Maru’s fingers are raw that evening.

 _Lunar dust is extremely corrosive_ His astronomy book explains. It just gets _everywhere_.

Junno lives at the top of a high-rise apartment, close to the sky, windows wide open at night, letting in the shine of planets distant. Maru knocks on the door and Junno opens for him and his hair is a halo, pliant and it reminds Maru of the illusion of Saturn’s rings. Rock, ice, and the untouchable and the far-reaching. Junno’s chuckles then are like the friction of skin against a clean sheet of glass. Plainly amused by Maru standing at his door clearly.

It looks spotless and sparse with the wide stretching windows, blinds and curtains pulled back bathing the room in an eerie milky light, but there’s so many computers, switches, lights and speakers _for my music and games_ Junno says flippantly and Maru decides to explain: you see, he has a project in the environmental effects of electricity, magnetism and he can’t remember what else and it’s actually a waste of time to explain really…

“…so how do I put this? I think we should have sex,” he states, attempting a gesture that’s supposed to circle the entire concept of copulation. It looks more like he’s thrusting a bowl of something forward. If it were full of liquid, it would’ve spilt.

The radiation from a gamma ray wouldn’t hold a candle to the effect of Junno’s laughter then. “There could be consequences,” Junno murmurs earnestly after a pause.

This is troubling, but only because Maru had hoped there’d be no argument. He gives it one more go. “But this is about science, you know.”

“Oh, yes, it definitely would be,” Junno agrees, amiably toned. “I think it’d be a real breakthrough.”

It’s a thoughtful silence before Junno looks toward the super moon gushing light over Junno’s dark apartment. As he walks away toward it, his black and sterling outlined figure is straight-backed and otherworldly. The room buzzes with that magnetism Maru’s been getting the full effect of this past week. He follows Junno to the window, and yes, the moon is high and gorgeous. Science, Nakamaru tries to keep thinking as his brain starts to confuse words like, “fill,” with “feel.”

But Junno is a diamond mine of the static, ready energy flooding his veins even when he’s still. He’s kinetic. Maru turns to lean back against the sill; he’s going to ask him because all the signs say so, but there isn’t really a right way to phrase it.

Maru appreciates the way Junno makes eye contact and his eyes have always been strange. They’re black like this, solid black with pupils that seem to expand sideways, but they glitter dangerously as if they’ve been lacquered with battery acid. “You look so nice in moonlight,” Junno says smilingly. “I like the way it defines your edges, the colour...” and Maru realises that Junno doesn’t blink, _ever_. His head falls back against the windowpane as he stares at this phenomenon, wondering why he’d never noticed before. It’s like a constant stream of hypnosis and the acidic gleam in Junno’s gaze makes him press back. He feels like there’s something actively in him, heating him with intent.

He can’t answer when Junno reaches out for him and even through the fabric of his sweater, Junno’s plasma-lit fingertips are wired, heat and volts strike his pores and he shudders back a bit in alarm. As he weakens and falls to sit on the window still, Junno’s hands come up his knees and rest there, still but sending these _currents_ lancing into his muscles, quickening them with adrenaline. It’s the vibration that makes him still, however, because he’s read about this paramagnetism and how it’ll only get worse and this is why he’s here.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” says Junno, polite enough to warn because when he leans down, filling Maru’s senses with an airy, preternatural flavour, it’s an immediate vertigo. Maru shuts his eyes. First breath and it’s like inhaling before a drop into an ocean—no— this is dry and warm, hot and breathless—airless space. Maru opens his mouth against Junno’s searching soft lips and it’s a vacuum of sensations. Large hands slide up his back, bringing him up and forward, clutching him closer.

It’s already too much, a barrage of blue lightning when Junno’s tongue dips against his, tasting, sampling something in Maru that intrigues him. And Junno is not salty; he is tasteless but in the way that an anaesthetic leaves your tongue numb and heavy. The rolling attenuate fuzziness steals him completely out of the room and it’s an empty airless space with only the window sill and the milk light. He’s startled when Junno’s fingers come up against the bottom of his chin and force his head back and there’s a little thump as his head strikes the window pane, but Junno’s mouth, strangely cool and spreading an intoxicant, gasps as he slides down to Maru’s throat. He parts his lips against the pulse rocketing in Maru, fingers still bracing him back against the window. He kisses it before lapping his tongue over those delicate, breathing and beating spots around Maru’s Adam’s apple and his other hand curves around Maru’s lower back, tugging him closer, sliding him forward on the sill.

He realises the sensation is akin to menthol, numbing, icy and burning. The vicious currents are deadly at this point. Maru can’t even move, but his thighs fall open where Junno fits into them so divinely. Maru can only let Junno push him back against the window as he clutches the back of Junno’s shirt, fingers fisting with each wet, vaporizing pattern sliding from his throat to his collarbone, sucking, kissing and the rest of the room just disappears.

Junno lets go. Maru’s neurons immediately slam back into position from the single second of lost touch and he’s just _shaking_. “Oh god,” he manages to breath, catching himself against the edge of the lacquered wooden sill.

Junno steps back, fingers working at his own shirt buttons as he disengages each one individually, skin stark in blue-silver as the dark shirt falls back, shrugged off his shoulders where he catches it in his left hand before tossing it back at the sofas behind him.

Maru shifts uncomfortably, feeling himself grow harder, pressing up into cloth on his inseam. Junno’s bright eyes, still unblinking and harsh, gaze more steadily as his hands slide down to his belt buckle, unfastening it, tugging gently at his own zipper, slipping those jeans down and letting them drop as his ferine frame does numerous internal things just beneath his salt crystal skin, translucent and maybe glowing when he straightens, all dark gazes, chou crème, and musculature. He stands shamelessly under Maru’s own round-eyed, awed stare, and he’s erect, his cock curving outward and all of his skin-- bare thighs, lean, tense stomach and hips cast in a shock pearly blue-- all just _glimmer_ ; the sight of it alone is evocative, but Maru doesn’t even know what to do or what he even _wants_ to do first.

Junno crosses their space of separation but only to tug meaningfully on Maru’s black interlock shirt, curling the hem of it in his fist as if to say, “Get rid of this,” in not so many words. Maru is still shaking and he feels etherized with what is just hot and simple proximity. This, right here, has never happened to him before and it’s _scary_ so even his breaths shake out of him. He pulls up the hem of his shirt, feeling Junno’s eyes scraping down him, drinking in the sight of his bare stomach and chest as he slides out of his sleeves awkwardly, pulling the fabric up over his head. Junno has already started on his trousers, stripping him of his belt and once more Maru’s head hits the window, sliding back up as Junno’s drags his zipper apart, yanking his trousers from under him, tossing them aside. All this as he bent low and his eyes flicker up to gaze at Maru once again, the acidic sheen in them seems to exude a sudden yellow-like gleam, but he may have imagined it.

A bit roughly, Junno pulls on his upper arms, dragging him forward so he stands. It does occur to Maru that they’re both standing stark naked in front of a wide sweeping window. However, with just the moon harrowing over them in that phenomenally clear sky, Maru feels like they’re the only ones up here at this level, the only people who can possibly see the moon at this height. As the ache of lightning wonderful make their ministrations up his thighs to his waist, he pulls Junno in just as intently, aligning himself to him, savouring the deep, aluminum sigh that clouds hotly right beneath his earlobe. Hands curve around the backs of his upper thighs to tug them close together, and Maru presses his mouth biting into Junno’s shoulder when he feels his cock grind a bit viciously, silken friction up against Junno’s. That too, feels like swallowing an entire pot of hot menthol. The taste of the skin at Junno’s shoulder is just then like fitting his tongue over a hot spark plug. It’s not like figurative electricity; Maru is literally feeling his insides start to melt, his skin pulsing with repetitive shocks. The hair on his arms all stand at attention.

His vision swims with black patterns, a side-effect of electrocution, in the shadow of them standing there and he asks it, low and unsteady. “What are you?” These words are flavoured with high-pitched gasps. “Y-you can’t be…”

Junno’s hard fingers dig into his skin, pulling him in again to slide them together, a bit more urgently this time. But he vibrates them both with a helpless chuckle. “The moon must look so incredible on your naked back right now,” is all he says before he slides his hands up to Maru’s shoulders and flips him around and afraid of falling, Maru’s fingers slap against the glass. Junno’s tugs his legs back and Maru rests his forehead against the window, hands braced beside him, breathing deep.

From the way Junno’s fingers are tracing, and the slip of movement happening behind him, he knows to expect the sensation, but certainly not what it feels like. Junno’s thumbs pulling him open as a wet muscular something presses on him, dipping just along his rim and Maru slides downward in a heavenly shudder, fingers dragging steamed lines down the pane with each thrust of Junno’s tongue. He swirls it frantically, skilfully and to Maru it feels like a fluid invasion, palpitating sleek making him quake.. There’s a wet, smacking sound as Junno expels a swift hot breath, finger slipping close and finally into him. Maru feels the pad of Junno’s fingertip tug on him, making an insistent half circle to stretch him open before pushing in, tongue following closely.. Finally, convulsing, nose pressed to the glass, Maru starts to moan, long half-panicked whines as the sweetness becomes too much and he sinks to the window sill, face still pressed to the glass and hands now braced on the sill. He pushes back involuntarily, hips rising when Junno turns his finger like an ignition and digs in to his knuckle, filling Maru in that instant with a ripping harsh ecstasy.

No, not human at all. This should be hurting more.

Then something like this pause comes up where Maru is heaving, his heart racing. It feels like being caught in an eternal flinch, but it floods in just the right way. When he opens his eyes, his eyelids feel these crackles of leftover static on the tips of his eyelashes. They glimmer and against the backdrop of the moon outside, Maru’s vision is blurred. Junno’s palm slides up his back slowly, pads of his fingers still hot like a bulb made of moist crystal.

The sound he makes when the head of Junno’s cock pokes just on his rim is new and choking. Whatever vaporising solution that was on Junno’s tongue has coated him numb and tingly. He is still open as he braces his knees against the wall, elbows pressed tight to the edges of the sill while the window against his open mouth is white with his searing breaths. For the slick second that Junno slowly eases in, he may have gone deaf and blind as a buzz like white noise rattles through his ear drums and his entire body floods with what can only be termed as fizzling suction. When the white noise fades and the blue blotches on the edges of his vision throb still and vanish, Maru realises that he’s crying out. He’s making such long peals of aching moans with Junno ramming in behind him, fingers desperately curved on his pelvic bones. It’s a jumping, tenacious ache as he’s filled and released, filled and released again and again, a tugging, fleshy pull in and out of him.

It isn’t that curve of perfection until Junno’s arms snake around him, chest pressing to the middle of his back, and he hears the mile a minute race of Junno’s heart as he keeps up the choking rhythm, sliding in vigorous twists into Maru, grunts and breaths mingling where his lips press to the cold sweat moonlit skin of Maru’s back and Maru starts to jab his hips backward, rocking with him, relishing the control of each movement he makes causing a new tone of groans to erupt from both of them. His ribs tighten as Junno’s grip becomes a bit furious, uncontrollable in want, rocking them together, waiting for it, both their halted wet moans praying for it, for the break like the moon glaring down at them, if it ever were to shatter. Maru thinks only hovering destruction can permeate him the way that Junno has changed him in seconds. He is a whole new species already, gasping, sweating, fingernails clawing at cold glass as his wet cheek presses to the pane, blue with the night sky.

Then they rock and rocket, he feels his abdomen twist when Junno’s thick cock and the ram of his hips practically splits Maru just then. The inside of him, a full cave of sensitivity, is crackling toward explosion and he feels it before his eyes, fixed on the stars, blanket with hot blank white. And soon Junno, still breaking the back of him, sliding thick pulsing muscle into Maru cries out, the deep traces of a pained want raking from the back of his throat. He shudders into Maru, stickiness, heat crashing like a cliff wave so it feels where Maru’s limp, red hot and burning. still beams of the outside world splash over them when they both slump.

Maybe hours, perhaps just minutes, Junno enfolds him, arms coming in. He does the strangest thing that Maru’s weak, still shaking senses can barely process as Junno pulls him backward, letting Maru’s quivering limbs rest: he drags his finger almost calculatingly down the very middle of Maru’s abdomen. A still hot glance of touch, but more studying than sexual. Maru’s half-lidded eyes blink at him.

“What are you doing?” he breathes, half done in.

Junno’s lips curl upward, stretching them over a shock white row of teeth and his black acidic gaze lights up with him. Firework-like. “Nothin’,” he says.

 

 

 ** _Part 2: Wanna Be A Victim, Ready For Abduction_**  
In the name of science it feels like there are no true consequences. Only cause and effect. Maru doesn’t find it awkward around Junno and Junno’s high beam smiles are the same if not heartier when he’s around. Maru still puzzles over Junno, but he feels like this can be done at a distance because he’s _read_ about frequent electrocution and he just _knows_ better.

Of course, it’s Kame that points it out. “Your skin looks softer.”

Special as it is. It comes as a relief since his skin has been feeling a bit raw and irritated since that night with Junno. He presses his fingers to his cheeks a little pensively and wonders briefly about secretions and residue. He knows he has a biology textbook at home somewhere…

At night he lays back and still looks at his projected planets and he shivers a little whenever he looks too long at the moon.

Then it’s Koki, while Maru’s midway through a sandwich. “Dude, you’re getting fat.”

Special as it is. It comes off as interesting since Maru’s bone structure and overall metabolism isn’t quite built for weight-gain. He begins to worry a little and thinks about a change in diet.

He learns to blow a bubble like Junno. It’s about making a tiny pocket of air beneath your tongue and lifting the resulting bubble onto the tip of your tongue. It pops just as he tries to blow it out. He thinks perhaps it might be the air in his bedroom.

Then it’s Ueda, while they’re watching a drama. “Yucchi, you’re crying.”

Special as it is. It comes across as something very upsetting. He dabs at his eyes with the back of his wrist a little weakly. He hadn’t expected to find a veterinarian-related drama to be so enriching and close to home. Junno’s eyes are brown on screen, but they still sizzle at him. His sides hurt and he wishes he could curl into the corner of the sofa and cry into it his arm. Ueda watches him, wide-eyed, as he proceeds to do just as he wishes.

Then it’s Junno, approaching him, eyes lowered so his pale lashes fringe his cheeks and his carefully structured features curve with concern. “You’re having my offspring.”

A massive, luminous ball of plasma can burn heat streaks on Maru’s back from light years away; _that’s_ special, but not this. “H…how?”

Junno helps him take a seat and he looks solemn, but it’s more appalling to Maru that he can see the happy shining in the undercurrent of Junno’s expression. It’s intuitive. “I’m sorry. I worried there would be consequences, and I should’ve taken more precaution, but it’s just that I very much like you, Nakamaru. I don’t mind if it’s you who carries the Moon Princess.”

Maru settles in his chair, and his back aches and his collarbones feel raw. “You…what?”

“You see, Nakamaru, I come from the moon.”

Maru’s hands rise to cover his face and he let out a sob that’s deep and sad. Like a cold, wet kitten sitting alone in the mouth of a dark cave. Junno rubs his shoulders and is sympathetically morose before he continues.

“You will grow big with child and carry her for all of nine months, and when she is born, we will send her in a pod to the moon where she can be trained in moon ways and moon manners. It’ll be amazing to see, won’t it? For that scientific breakthrough?”

Maru’s voice isn’t working, so it comes out in a pitchy squeak. “How could you do this to me?”

Junno frowns and his deep black eyes crackle suddenly. “It is a great honour on the moon to carry the moon princess.”

“But we’re not _on_ the moon!” Maru whines, flopping back on the chair.

Junno sighs. “But we will be…” and here he smiles again, a cherishable grin. “When we’re done with this Earth thing, I want to take you back with me to be my iriguchi.”

Maru pauses. “ _Excuse_ me?” he says, very appalled.

“Ah, on the moon, the Moon Prince is allowed to select his iriguchi who would carry the Moon Princess. It’s a matriarchal society where the princesses inherit the Moon Throne and the princes or common men only have their iriguchis unless there’s the off-chance that he gets himself a deguchi, but we don’t talk about that. My intro is starting to sound a bit funnier, isn’t it?”

“I’m pregnant…”Maru murmurs.

“Only for awhile,” Junno supplies. “I really think you’re the best one in KAT-TUN for this. This is a satisfying result. At first I thought I was going to implant my seed in Uepi, but he wanted it the other way around and that goes against Moon law. So I was thinking it might be Koki…but he’s too much of a deguchi to deal with this anyway. You, Nakamaru, it’s you and I’m so happy,” he declares.

Maru doesn’t listen to any of this nonsense. His arm rests tentatively on his stomach. “I’m so confused…why am I all right with this?” he asks helplessly.

Junno waves his arm dismissively, looking positively charged with joy. “The seed only plants ectopically if the lower intestine, nipples and right aorta is willing to accept it. These are your vessels for oxytocin. The hormone for love. You’re in love with me.”

It’s all old electricity he’d explored a week ago and as the white noise sensation only rises when Junno leans forward for just a quick peck, it sort of all becomes ridiculously clear. This is science, anyway.

 


End file.
